


so much older than i can take

by maranhig



Series: time, truth, hearts [2]
Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, Body Horror, Multi, Polyamory, only the first part is gory i promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-15
Updated: 2014-01-15
Packaged: 2018-01-08 20:00:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1136769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maranhig/pseuds/maranhig
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>you’re on an offshoot of asphalt in the middle of the night. you nearly died from the infection that set in your leg. the governor sliced hershel’s jugular open with michonne’s sword. carl still won’t talk to you about what you’ve lost. the pickup you now possess was taken from a man who threw himself at a pack of walkers. your group’s scattered to the four winds and your baby girl is dead.<br/>your mind stutters on that. yourbabygirlisdead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	so much older than i can take

**Author's Note:**

> i have a test tomorrow and i’m writing porn. what else is new.

Judith’s fussing in her crib, soft kitten noises that dissipate as soon as you come up to her. She nearly goes cross-eyed looking up at you, and she squeals in recognition. She holds out her arms as a demand for you to pick her up, one year old and already the boss. You grin and.

Sink your teeth into her chubby fingers, suck the flesh off bone. Only then do you decide to pick her up, never mind that she’s screaming and thrashing about, and you go straight for her little belly, that’s where the warmfreshnew scent is strongest, you’re so hungry –

**Wake up.**

Her clothes are bland on your tongue but you tear through them easily, and her skin is electrifying, it’s so wonderful, you almost feel alive again –

_Daryl, we need to do something –_

**I’m trying, but it’s like he can’t fuckin hear me –**

Someone’s crying and you dimly realize it’s you –

“Rick!”

Consciousness slams into like a two by four, and you gasp and claw at the arms holding you up, blinking through tears and Daryl’s pinched face swimming into view. The ground is biting into your knees, the cold sliding into your marrow, and you recollect yourself.

You’re on an offshoot of asphalt in the middle of the night. You nearly died from the infection that set in your leg. The Governor sliced Hershel’s jugular open with Michonne’s sword. Carl still won’t talk to you about what you’ve lost. The pickup you now possess was taken from a man who threw himself at a pack of walkers. Your group’s scattered to the four winds and your baby girl is dead.

Your mind stutters on that. yourbabygirlisdead.

Sobs wrack your throat, and you’re mortified to feel that your vocal chords are already raw. If you bring a whole herd down on you just because you can’t control your nightmares, what’s the fucking point of escaping like this? You twist around in Daryl’s grip and see Michonne down the road trying to get Carl to climb into the back of the truck again. Despite the considerable distance they are and how much the fire you’ve made has died down, you don’t think you’re imagining the tear tracks on your son’s face.

When you find the strength to meet Daryl’s gaze again, you feel distraught anew by how he’s looking at you. “I’m sorry.” You sound like you’ve swallowed broken glass. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean.”

“Ain’t your fault.” He’s not just talking about the dream, you know, but it doesn’t comfort you. “Rick, you gotta know by now, it ain’t your fault.”

You sink against him, not minding that your banged-up hand is still caught between your chests. “You have no idea how badly I want to believe that.” You regret it the moment that leaves your mouth; you’re like a petulant child who thinks his worries outweigh those of all others.

But he just tugs you even closer, his shaky exhale prickling your scalp as he leans back to sit down and have you fully ensconced in his arms.

Michonne comes to join you, and fits her head to the crook of your neck without a word.

You all stay that way until you feel Michonne shudder from the breeze, and your watery chuckle at that makes Daryl smile too. “Hey, you guys should catch some sleep.” You straighten up and rub at your eyes, wince when you accidentally put your weight on your bad leg. “I’ll take watch now.”

“Mm, I don’t know.” The lilt in Michonne’s voice catches your attention, and you frown at her. She grins and lightly nips at your neck. “I think I need a little warming up first.”

“That’s a grand idea.” Daryl looks positively sinful, all half-lidded eyes and lips curling up like candle smoke, and your stomach plummets a few thousand feet. He reaches over your shoulder to capture her mouth, their tongues sliding together and the sound crawls down your ear straight to your cock.

“If you’re trying to distract me, it’s working,” you manage, though it sounds more breathy than you’d like. Michonne makes a noncommittal sound, inching closer to Daryl until she’s in his lap, and they’re moving against each other as fluid and powerful as the river meeting the sea.

You let out a helpless groan, making to unzip yourself but Daryl’s hand snaps out to curl around your wrist, tugging it firmly away.

“You said you were gonna watch, so  _watch_ ,” he rasps, and Michonne laughs at how you splutter in outrage. “Looks like we finally made good on that threat bout you not getting any until we do,” she taunts you, already scooting down Daryl’s body to work open his pants and squeeze the base of his cock, nose brushing the dark curls there. Daryl murmurs happily, cheeks a blistering color and looking at you like he’s trying his damndest not to grin. Smug fucker.

Then Michonne swallows him down almost completely in one go and he nearly screams. He smacks his palm against his mouth, noisy breaths whistling out through his nose, eyes gone utterly black. You whine and your hips buck into empty air, desperate for something to release a little of the blinding heat in your gut, anything. And Michonne shifts to unbutton her jeans, fingers slipping inside and  _oh_. That’d work too.

Immediately you move until you’re the one plastered against her back, carefully not letting your dick touch any inch of her, curious as you are about how they’ll take care of you after all’s said and done. “You didn’t say anything about me touching you,” you bite out, and her stunned moan as you push her fingers aside probably means she doesn’t mind.

She’s so wet already, and it’s easy for you to make circles over her clit and push a finger into her soft folds. From the easy pressure of your touch and how Daryl’s groaning “fffuck” over and over, Michonne just sucks at him harder until he finally comes apart, nothing but a curse garbled beyond understanding.

Michonne slips into your lap then, finally frees your cock and you could cry from relief. For a second you think she’s going to ride you and you say, already sounding wrecked, “Sorry, d’you want – nngh –”

“This’ll do,” she tells you, voice hitching but still dark with amusement. One of the many, many things that amazes you about her, this, how she’s so silent yet so comfortable in her own skin that every sound she makes feels as if she’s tearing cities down. She’s rubbing against you fast and directionless, but her knees are locking you down so you can’t return the favor. You throw your head back, frustration bubbling up in you anew because you want to fucking  _move_.

Daryl, bless him, senses this even in his blissed-out high. He rolls closer and kisses you, his tongue dipping into your mouth so cloyingly soft and that’s somehow enough. You whimper, coming almost at the same time Michonne digs her nails hard into your thighs, tremors wracking her until she slumps over you with a sigh.

There’ll be bruises on the places you’ve scraped against the gravel because fucking around under the open sky isn’t exactly a wise idea, but you’re too blissful to care. Daryl tugs at the hand you used on Michonne, suckles at the tips and you bat him away, laughing quietly. Michonne grins, but then shivers again. “Jesus, has it been this cold the whole time?”

You smile. “Seeing as I’m the only one wearing sleeves at the moment, I can’t properly say.”

“Smartass.” She kisses you and Daryl’s bittersalt tang is still there, and you could just lick that taste away until you fall asleep where you are, but yeah, it is pretty cold.

Daryl gives you a hand up and insists that he take watch and you sleep again, no matter how you dissuade him. “You need the rest,” he mutters, his lips pressing to your cheek so quick you think you’ve imagined it at first.

And with everyone left you love within arm’s reach, you’re lulled into a long overdue slumber that isn’t plagued with ghosts.


End file.
